God Bless Us Everyone, Expect Zoidberg
by TheNewIdea
Summary: All Zoidberg wanted for X-Mas was the simplest of things, the thing that you can't see or touch. The thing that he never really had. Rated M for strong language, symbolism. Your interpretations on its meaning are your own.


Doctor John Zoidberg walked through the Planet Express office on X-Mas Eve feeling sadder than he ever had in his entire life. X-Mas was always a very bad time for the alien, mostly because it was during this time of year that everyone around him was with someone special and he was always alone. Amy and Kif were busy entertaining Bender by suffering through another one of his famous "Kill Humans and Robots Should take over the World" speeches. Fry and Leela meanwhile, were decorating the Planet Express ship with garland and popcorn beads, a tradition that Fry proposed in a futile effort to instill the 20th Century into the holiday.

Zoidberg looked down at his feet, noticing that his sandals were getting worn, "I need some new duds I do!" he said to himself, trying to keep his mind off the holiday, only to accidently have his mind go back to it by thinking of the impossibility of getting sandals for X-Mas. Zoidberg never got anything, no one cared enough to bother with him, if anything Zoidberg was seen as an annoyance, and his effectiveness as a doctor was low, despite having saved the crew on numerous occasions where his expertise on alien biology proved to be essentially to them getting back alive. Sighing, the alien made his way to the observatory to see if the Professor was busy with something that he might be able to help with.

Looking around the observatory, Zoidberg noticed that a lot of the previous inventions that were normally scattered around the room were gone; in fact, most of the room was empty. "Professor" Zoidberg called, confused as to why he was looking at an empty room, "Professor, your machines...where have they gone?" Farnsworth appeared from a far corner of the room, invisible from the doctor's perspective. For the first time Zoidberg noticed how old the Professor was, he was easily going on 200, in fact, Zoidberg himself, as far as his species went, was considered middle aged.

Farnsworth smiled as he approached his lifelong friend, "Come here John, I want to show you something." Zoidberg raised an eyebrow, "What's going on? Where are your machines?" Farnsworth laughed to himself as he moved back to the corner of the room, beckoning for Zoidberg to follow. Upon reaching the corner of the room, Zoidberg was standing in front of a picture of himself and the Professor, all the way back when both of them had hair. "It's a picture" Zoidberg said confusingly, "you wanted me to see a picture." Farnsworth rolled his eyes, "What is that a picture of John?" Zoidberg looked up, not believing what was happening, "It's a picture of us 50 odd years ago, big deal, Hubert." Farnsworth shook his head, "Yes John, it is a big deal. It was the day we first met, remember?"

Zoidberg huffed, extremely annoyed that the Professor was about to go where he was obviously going, "Don't say things you don't mean Hubert." Farnsworth stared at him, concern in his eyes, "What are you talking about John? You know how much I value our friendship." Zoidberg laughed sarcastically, "Friendship! Is that what this is about, our friendship? Were we ever really friends Professor?" Farnsworth moved closer to try and embrace Zoidberg, but he only backed away, "I don't need your hypocritical feelings and false words Professor! I don't need reminders of what we used to be...What I need is for you to stop trying to be so damned concerned when you really aren't. You hated me from the beginning just like everyone else. All you've ever done ever since I came here is insult me, slap me; you accused me of murder Hubert! Murder! Me, a simple crab commit murder! I'm a doctor for fuck's sake, I don't kill things, I bring them life!"

Farnsworth hung his head, "I'm sorry you feel that way John. I really am." Zoidberg shook his head in disbelief, "I can't believe this! You're deliberately trying to get me to sympathize with you. Ever since I met you my life has been a living hell! Do you have any idea what it's like to have no one respect you? To have no one to go home to at night, to caress your cheek, kiss your hand and tell you that everything is going to be alright?" The Professor tried to answer him, but before he could Zoidberg stopped him, "Don't you dare say no. I know all about your go with Mom. Admit it; you went home, fucked her and then whispered sweet nothings into each other's ears didn't you?" Farnsworth hung his head, "Yes John. Yes I did." Zoidberg snapped his claws together in a silent victory dance, "You see!" Zoidberg exclaimed, "Even you, the Great Professor Hubert Farnsworth, the nephew of a delivery boy with the brain the size of a peanut have felt love. I haven't! I never, not once in my entire life, have I ever had a romantic relationship, or any kind of relationship for that matter. I came close once, real close, so close that I could almost taste it! But hell, let's face it" Zoidberg slumped his shoulders in defeat, "no one likes me, not even...not even enough to get me a damned X-Mas present."

Zoidberg then turned around and left the room, Farnsworth sighed as he pulled out a small box from his coat pocket, Zoidberg's present. It was the one thing that would make everything better for him; it was the only thing that Zoidberg ever asked for in his entire life. It only took Farnsworth a lifetime to get it.

Having nowhere to go, Zoidberg retreated to his office next to the ship. Locking the door, Zoidberg looked around and noticed that he was surrounded with numerous scalpels, surgical saws and a large set of pliers, all of them effective instruments of death. Zoidberg walked over to the table and stared at the instruments. Zoidberg knocked them all down on the floor and slammed his claws down on the table, it was enough force to break it in half. Zoidberg then began running around his office, destroying everything, the only thing that remained intact was a single picture. The picture was of him, standing on a lone beach looking out towards the sunrise. "I've always been alone" Zoidberg whispered to himself, "even on my home planet I was outcast, thrown aside like garbage. I was and am the dirt between their feet."

A knock at the door, Zoidberg looked up and saw that it was Fry, still he ignored it. "Zoidberg" Fry said on the other side of the door, "Why don't you come on out and celebrate with us?" Zoidberg shook his head, "I can't do that Fry" he replied, "Well why not?" Fry asked, trying to get him to come out. Zoidberg moved over to the door, still keeping it closed, "Because none of you would mean it. This whole damned holiday is just some cruel joke to you people! Well let me tell you something Fry, it isn't a joke to me. It's something special." Fry sighed, his breath for a moment leaving its mark on the glass of the door, "It's something special for me too, Zoidberg. Now please, come on out." Zoidberg huffed, "No it isn't. I've seen the movies, I've know that scene Fry! You say that as if it has meaning when you're just as hypocritical as everyone else. You don't give a damn about me, you never have and you never will. So what's the point of celebrating a holiday where you show appreciation when you're not appreciated."

Fry said nothing and walked away from the door. Just as Zoidberg was about to walk away, another knock at the door, caused him once again to walk back over and stand in front of it. This time it was Leela. "Zoidberg please" she said, "we can't start without you." Zoidberg holding the picture in his hand threw it against the wall, the frame was obliterated on contact with the wall, the glass scattered the floor and the picture itself found its way over to a small lamp where it caught fire and brunt into nothing but ashes.

Zoidberg stared at the lamp, contemplating the meaning behind the burning of the picture. Sitting down next to the door and looking up towards the ceiling, he began crying, for nothing seemed to make sense anymore. It was as if the universe was telling him something, something that required deep personal growth and thinking in order for even a fraction of it to be understood. Zoidberg had been screaming to the world, to the universe for years, only to find that no one was listening. He was a voice lost in a sea of voices, all of them saying the same time at different volumes. No matter how loud Zoidberg screamed, he always seemed to be drowned out, always seen as nothing more than a whisper in the wind.

The reason why Zoidberg was a whisper was because for many years he had seen himself as such, his self image, both physically and mentally, was so poor that eventually society saw in exactly the same light. By the time John realized his potential, it was already too late, he was permanently etched as the crazy, poor, gluttonous goof whose only purpose was to be the butt of every joke.

Ten minutes later, Zoidberg stopped crying and simply began breathing. "Fry" Zoidberg said, turning his head towards the door. Fry could be heard moving towards the door, his silhouette appearing through the window in the door, "Yes Zoidberg?" Zoidberg looked around, his eyes darting from the smashed glass on the floor, to the various medical tools back to the door, "Tell me everything is going to be okay." Fry shrugged and complied, "Everything is going to be okay" he replied. Zoidberg nodded and stood up, staring at the door he spoke again, "Amy" he said softly, "you there?" Fry heard this and moved away, muffled voices could be heard from the other side. Amy's silhouette appeared in the window, "Hey Zoidberg" she answered. Zoidberg smiled at the sound of her voice, "Do you remember what you said when I asked you what you thought the greatest thing in all the universe was?" Amy nodded, "I do" she said, "I said that the greatest thing in the universe was my family." Zoidberg nodded solemnly, his eyes downcast, "If that's true...then what am I?"

To this Zoidberg was met with silence. Amy simply walked away, leaving Zoidberg without an answer. He ignored this and called up the next person, "Hermes. Can you come here please?" More muffled voices, a shuffled movement and an annoyed groan came from the other side. Hermes' silhouette appeared, "Yes, what do you want?" Zoidberg smirked, "I just want to say one thing. Despite every thing that you said about me, every word that ever made its way into my four hearts and every scoff and every slap to the face, I still think that after all these years you are perhaps the biggest motherfucking asshole in this entire crew." Hermes shook his head and was about to comment, but Zoidberg continued, cutting him off, "You are pompous, annoying and everything you say is always in numbers so only a calculator and Bender can understand you. But I want to make one thing very clear Hermes, and I mean this when I say it. You are my pompous, annoying, number crunching, motherfucking asshole. What do you have to say about me?" Once again, Zoidberg was met with silence. Hermes let out a long sigh and walked away.

Saying that Zoidberg was disappointed would be an understatement. Saying that Zoidberg was crushed would also be an understatement. Saying that Zoidberg was emotionally destroyed however, would be a prefect phrase.

John finally opened the door, coming face to face with Fry, Leela, Amy, Hermes, Bender and Farnsworth. Looking at all of them he spoke again, "Well you've done it. You've taken everything from me. All I had ever was love for you people. I didn't have money like Amy, smarts like Hermes, skill like Leela. I didn't have the Professor's resources and I certainly don't have Fry, who is a category all his own." Zoidberg took off his lab coat and put on his trench coat, "I didn't have a goddamn thing! So why bother taking things from me when all you would get is nothing? The things I have are invisible, they're not things you can touch" Zoidberg turned towards Amy, "At least in the conventional sense. No, all I had was love. Now all that is taken from me."

Amy looked at Zoidberg, remembering what he had said to her. Zoidberg, reading Amy's thoughts, placed his clawed hand on her shoulder and repeated his statement from that night verbatim. "If I told you that you saved my life tonight would you believe it?" Amy, taking the cue, followed suit, "Why?" she asked. Zoidberg smiled and gave his answer, "Because the minute I saw you I died, saw Heaven and came back down to Earth."

Zoidberg waited for Amy's response, instead he was greeted with a downcast stare of embarrassment and shame from Amy. Zoidberg nodded in understanding and patted her shoulder. "It's alright Amy" Zoidberg said sadly, "you don't have to say anything." Kif walked over, having heard Zoidberg's statement and stared at him, his stance on the defensive, "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" he asked. Zoidberg removed his claw from Amy's shoulder and turned slowly towards Kif, "If you're saying what I think _you're_ saying Kif" Zoidberg answered, "then you're just as stupid as I feared you'd be. What happened between me and Amy is between me and Amy. It is in the past. You should be proud of your wife, that I blatantly said what I said, even though you weren't there to witness it the first time you heard it now." Zoidberg then looked at Amy, "The point is, that I used to mean something to you. Quite a lot actually. The minute I opened myself up, admitted my feelings, you ran away, just like everyone else. You're nothing but a backstabbing bitch Amy" Zoidberg immediately turned to Kif, "and I don't fucking care that you guys are fucking. Cause guess what Kif, I'm the one who took her virginity. You can say all the shit you want about me. Hell, you can pull out your gun and shoot me right now and I wouldn't give a damn! Because no one would care if I died today, tomorrow, next week, two years from now or two years ago. No would care, because I'm John Zoidberg, the butt of every joke, the stick in the mud and the guy who fucked your whore of a wife first you son of a bitch." Zoidberg leaned in, daring Kif to move, "So go ahead" he pressed, "your move!"

Kif remained motionless, staring at Zoidberg with confusion, he wasn't sure if he was supposed to be laughing at him or screaming and ripping off his head. But either way, Kif, like everyone else, greeted Zoidberg with silence.

Without another word Zoidberg walked towards the couch and flipped it over. "This is what I get for having a heart!" Zoidberg screamed, "Empty, unrelenting, cold silence. That's all I've ever gotten." Zoidberg turned back towards the crew, "Not once have any of you said one decent thing to me. Sometimes you don't even bother to acknowledge my existence and if you do it's only to spread hypocrisy and ridicule!" Zoidberg pointed an accusing claw at every single member of the crew, finally landing on Fry, "Do any of you know what it's like to be hated? To go through life doing the same damned thing for twenty years getting no recognition? It's Hell! That's what my life is...a living hell." Zoidberg finally calmed down and sat in the middle of the floor, "Why bother yelling Zoidberg?" he said reverting to third person, "these people don't give a damn anyway."

It was several hours before Zoidberg decided to move again, having sat in the same spot, refusing to speak until someone said something, anything in response. Finally, Fry spoke up, "Zoidberg...I give a damn. Because you are the only person I know who flips a couch over because that's what he has to do in order to get noticed." Zoidberg turned towards Fry, saying nothing allowing Fry to continue, "You were testing weren't you? All you wanted was an answer to a simple question, "Who are you to us?" Well here's my answer. You are John Zoidberg, John Fucking Zoidberg." Zoidberg stood up, gave Fry a quick nod and walked out towards the street, not bothering to say anything to anyone.

Fry looked on, "Merry X-Mas Zoidberg" he whispered to himself. The Professor came in, slowly and full of purpose, behind him was a small box, Zoidberg's present. "Open it Fry" Farnsworth pleaded, "I want you to see Zoidberg's gift." Fry opened it and looked inside only to find an empty box. "I don't understand" Fry began, "Where's the present?" Farnsworth laughed, "To give someone nothing. You first have to give him everything. It took me almost twenty years to come up with this. Every year on X-Mas, I always gave Zoidberg an empty box, the first time was entirely by accident of course, but then I got an idea. Zoidberg doesn't need anything, because he already has everything that he could possibly want." Fry shook his head in disagreement, "That's where your wrong Professor. Zoidberg doesn't have a thing. He gave us everything and in return we gave him nothing. You gave him nothing. All he ever asked from you, from all of us, was the love he gave in return and all we managed to give him was a bunch of empty boxes."

The End


End file.
